


Sky Above, Earth Below, Fire Within

by CornelianMcZeeki



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Animals, Bacon, Bull loves Dragons & Dorian loves Bull, Bullying, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Food, Friendship, Fun, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, My First Smut, Reunion Sex, Romance, Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Violence, and dragons, and smut... eventually, did i mention there would be fluff?, mention of harm to animals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-03
Updated: 2016-02-28
Packaged: 2018-05-18 00:28:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5891047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CornelianMcZeeki/pseuds/CornelianMcZeeki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian surprises Bull. Bull is rendered speechless... And then the fun starts</p><p>Essentially... Dorian gives Bull a dragon. Not a scary, 'I eat humans' high dragon but a cute orphaned baby dragon. It goes without saying that Bull falls in love and gets crazy & possessive - just like he does with Dorian! </p><p>These are the many adventures of Bull and the Mage and the Dragon... (sometimes fluffy, sometimes dark, and sometimes NSFW)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Surprise!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first fanfic... not only my first for DA but ever! I've been reading everyone's wonderful imaginings for a while and you guys kept me sane last year so I thought what better way to say thank you than write a little something of my own..... except its turning out to be more than a little something.... I think i may be obsessed. I have lost my heart to DA and it won't give it back. ...
> 
> I will be updating regularly... and updating tags as required
> 
> I hope you enjoy. Please feel free to comment, give me feedback, prompts etc. It's all good. Or you could just say Hi. ;)

There was no doubt that Bull was surprised although overwhelmed might have been a better description. Standing in the privacy of Bulls room, newly returned from an eight week absence in Val Royeaux, Dorian was silently congratulating himself in a very generous manner. He’d always wondered what it would take to render Bull speechless and it appeared that, wonderous Tevinter Mage and Kadan that he was, he'd finally discovered the secret. Not only was Bull lost for words but he’d also lost the ability to move too. And all Dorian had needed to do was find his amatus the perfect gift. It was just a present... but Dorian had surpassed even his own expectations of his magnificent brilliance.

It had become a blessed and indulgent habit to return from their travels with a gift when said travels had forced them into days, sometimes weeks apart. Even as they ached for each other that yearning was lessened by these small acts. They added up to a precious collection; a generosity that tied them together like a well woven string of hope and which spoke the words that they themselves sometimes struggled to express.

Inevitably, because they were who they were, it had also turned into a competition. Each of them determined to out do the other; to find something bigger, better, more shocking than the gift before. To find that perfect present that fulfilled a need, or evoked the tastes of home, or that simply required them to get naked as quickly as possible. The gifts spoke of caring, of a need to see to the comfort and pleasure of the other. 

This gift though was something very special. It was more than the fur lined boots, or midnight blue winter robes that Bull had procured for him. And it was more than the chilli spiked cocoa or reinforced leg brace that Dorian had found for Bull. It was even more than the well worn copy of the "Illustrated Encyclopaedia of Dragons, Wyverns and Basilisks" that Dorian had discovered in some backwater tavern stuffed beneath the broken leg of a table to keep it level. Dorian had lovingly repaired and recovered the book, and ultimately he had diligently learned its contents. That gift had certainly not rendered Bull silent as he'd read aloud from it for hours however he could suggest that the book was, at least in part, responsible for the situation they now found themselves in. 

Bull had a look on his face that Dorian had never seen before. In part the look held that blissed-out blank satisfaction that flooded Bull after Dorian succeeded in sucking his brain out of cock. On the other hand there was the barely contained excitement that came when Bull could only hope that Dorian was about to suck his brain out through his cock. It made Bull difficult to read, stuck to the spot, and such a mix of emotions he was seemingly feeling everything and nothing all at once. His single brilliant eye was bright with unshed emotion as it remained fixed on the large box that Dorian had placed so carefully on their bed.  Dorian let the silence draw on until Bull was ready to break it. 

"I think," Bull said clearing his throat, "that you may have to repeat that."

Dorian smiled at the fact that still his lover could not look at him.

"I said," Dorian paused for dramatic effect as moments such as these require such considerations "I have bought you a dragon"

"That's what I thought I heard,"

It was just then that a pair of deep violet eyes peered over the side of the box and fixed her gaze very firmly on The Iron Bull.


	2. Origins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every relationship must begin somewhere...

Bull knew that he was lost. The moment he saw those beautiful, uncertain eyes peering at him he was in their thrall. It was like falling in love with Dorian all over again and just as paralysing. His brain had stopped working, the only thoughts he managed to keep hold of were that Dorian had finally returned, and that there was a Dragon. A DRAGON. Dorian his beautiful, impossible boy had bought a dragon home for him and the Dragon was currently staring at him. Bull was mesmerised and he was using every last bit of his Ben-Hassrath training not to give away any of his excitement. If he didn’t know better would think that he was dreaming except that Qunari never dream. 

The fading light of the afternoon added to the other worldliness of the moment, as if all time had been suspended. The silence and the dying light wrapping them all up and binding them together. Dorian smiled indulgently as he took a seat on the bed next to the box. It had been a long journey and he was ready to leave the dust and weariness of the road behind him. He was also eager to play matchmaker and introduce Bull to his newest friend. 

"Allow me to explain," Dorian said as he pulled off his boots needing to get comfortable. 

Taking that moment Dorian organised his thoughts wondering where exactly he should start. The trip to Val Royeaux had been interminable. He’d not wanted to attend in the first place, his taste for high politics having diminished greatly since leaving his home land. He’d also been reluctant because the Inquisitor had necessary business for Bull and the Chargers that would send them in the opposite direction. Time on the road was simply more tolerable when Bull was around, and if that made Dorian feel more domesticated than he should then he would forcible and vocally deny it. 

However Ambassador Montilyet had made it clear that should Dorian decide that he (a.) Wanted to remain alive; (b.) Wished to Remain alive and have any semblance of a reputation; and (c.) remain alive and be able to enjoy Bulls many natural gifts in the bedroom then he would join them in Val Royeaux as requested. Upon due consideration of Josie’s terms Dorian had graciously agreed. 

He had immediately regretted it. There had been too many meetings, events, parties and one over friendly ambassadors aide. Dorian had earned a bloody nose and black eye for his refusal of what the man had offered. The aide had earned a great deal more for his uncouth behavior although he had remained attached to his squishy bits much to Sera’s disappointment. Finally though, and not before time, their return had been agreed. Dorian had been left with a day to look for that perfect gift that had eluded him thus far. 

He had been reliably informed that the scholar responsible for the encyclopaedia had also written diaries of his dragon hunting adventures and the quest had led him to a tiny anonymous shop in the grubby back streets. Inside it held an eloquent silence for the illicit secrets it held amongst the many curiosities offered up for those who had coin. Dorian had haggled over the books and when business was done he’d hoped to escape quickly. It was at that moment that the overly solicitous shop keeper had leaned in close, his voice no more than a whisper.

"I have something that I think messer will be interested in," 

The words had been heavy with intrigue and stale smoke but it had been the look in the man’s eyes that had captured Dorian's attention. Unable to find the words to refuse he was ushered through a door and into the back room. 

No sooner had he stepped through the door than Dorian felt his stomach twist and drop. The room was lined with cage after cage, stacked high, one on top of the other, and every one filled with animals of fur and feather. The atmosphere was suffocating and Dorian’s breath caught in his throat, choking him until he couldn’t breath. The cages had not been cleaned in a long time but stronger than the smell of shit was the stench of fear and despair. Dorian had been about to make his excuses when he’d seen her. He had known immediately what she was. There was no mistaking it. But as certain as Dorian was, it swiftly became clear that the vendor did not know what a treasure he possessed. 

Dorian had slipped easily into his bored Tevinter routine that had served him so well back home and which had seen him through so parties. Hiding his interest had forced the vendor to offer him a deal, a generous discount. Negotiations had commenced and a price agreed. The prize had cost Dorian less coin than he thought as the shop keeper bargained for use of Dorian’s magic. The simpering man had insisted that the Almighty Magister cast a spell that would subdue that animals and make them compliant.

Dorian had done as asked and by his calculations it would have lasted all of about an hour before the animals had become loud, rebellious and possessed of the knowledge to pick open the locks on the cages. It would be a lesson the shop keeper (and torturer of animals) would never forget. To make certain of their safety Dorian had reported the premises once he’d smuggled himself and his cargo safely back to his lodgings. There were standards after all and Dorian had strong feelings about such things. Once in his room Dorian had set about making friends with his new companion and it had not been an easy task. 

As Dorian relayed all this Bull listened attentively, all the time watching Dorian's fingers rub soothing circles into the animals head. 

"So you should be able to tell me what she is..." Dorian teased knowing that Bull would have recognised her immediately just as he had. 

"A Dwarf Golden Tipped Ridgeback Dragon. So rare they're thought to be extinct," Bull said extracting word for word what he remembered from his book. "No bigger than a mans hand when first born Full grown adults will measure around three meters from nose to tail. Solitary, they thrive in only the most secluded of locations. Non aggressive unless provoked they are the natural prey of other dragons. They have little in the way of natural defences which may account for their low numbers in the wild.”

Bull sighed. The violet eyes were still watching him but he was certain that they were a little less scared than before. 

"And she's really ours?" Bull asked.

"She's really yours,"

Dorian finally moved towards Bull. Wrapping his arms around the man he had so greatly missed he settled into the warmth of the familiar body. Dorian placed a kiss just above Bulls heart. Bull offered a kiss of his own to the top of Dorian's head where the hair was deliciously tousled.

"I couldn't leave her behind,"

Dorian reluctantly extricated himself from Bull and returned to the box. Reaching in he carefully lifted the small dragon into his arms. It had taken care and the whole trip back from Val Royeaux to gain the creatures trust to allow this. He also had to take care of the many wounds that afflicted her after her incarceration. Still he could feel the little body tense and her heart beat race as she must have wondered what was going to happen next. Carefully he took a step closer towards Bull.

"This is The Iron Bull. He may look like a giant ox, and a great lummox but he's a kitten really," Dorian smiled broadly as he caught the look that clearly said 'really? A kitten! just you wait until you don't have an armful of dragon I'm trying not to scare and then I’ll show you…..’. 

Instead Bull held out his open hands offering the dragon a taste of him, hoping that she would know from his smell that he was a friend. The dragon seemed more fascinated with his horns her eyes having remained fixed as she stared at the great rack. Bull noted that the dragon’s own little horns had been cut or filed down at some point. Bull would get angry about that later.

Dorian stroked his hands along the length of the Dragon’s back. Slowly she unfurled herself from Dorian's grasp and placed her two front feet on one of Bulls great hands. He dared not move. What he wanted to do was gather the dragon up and hug her instead he stayed perfectly still and waited for her to come to him. She was possibly the most beautiful thing he had ever seen with the exception of Dorian. A pale dusky turquoise her scales lived up to her breed as each one was tipped with shining gold. She was very smart too. Bull could see it in her eyes. As smart as Dorian almost. It was as she looked up at him that Bull understood. Dorian had seen himself in the eyes of the dragon, trapped, alone and desperate to fly free. 

Carefully she stepped away from Dorian and into Bull’s giant hand. Eyes still fixed on Bull’s horns her curiosity encouraged her to tentatively scale his cliff-like chest so that she might, with Bull’s help, reach his shoulder. Eyeball to Eyeball she observed him and reached some sort of conclusion. It was obviously in Bull’s favour as the Dragon’s next act was to make a small leap until it was perched on one of Bull’s horns. 

“I have a Dragon,” Bull beamed. “And she likes me”


	3. Hello! My Name is.....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The introductions to the rest of the Skyhold start - first up Evie Trevelyan and Cullen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the wonderful comments so far - they mean so much! 
> 
> If there's anything in particular you'd like to see in the story please let me know - I'm happy to accept prompts

“So does she have a name?”

“I wanted to give you that honour,” Dorian said removing the robe that was more dust and dirt that fabric after so many days traipsing through nature. He didn’t know what it was about nature that made it cling to him so ferociously but if there was a magical cure for it he would happy pay for its secret.  
“It should be something beautiful and majestic, so nothing crazy, like Princess Dawnstone,”

The moment Dorian had said the words he regretted it. If he had not been so tired or distracted he would never have made such a rookie mistake. Telling Bull he couldn’t wouldn’t or shouldn’t was like waving a red rag to a nug. Dorian’s non-suggestion had Bull practically vibrating with excitement. 

“Really? You really…. Very well,” Dorian sighed. He was was simply too tired to fight. “I’m going to bathe.”

“Tubs all ready. I had thought to join you,”

“But you have a new friend. I shall try not to be too jealous when I scrub my own back,”

Sinking through the scented steam into the hot water below Dorian scrubbed himself clean and then lay back to let the water do its thing and relax every muscle. This was a very different homecoming to one that he and Bull usually indulged in. There had been none of the desperate kisses or unrestrained clutching of flesh that would carry them through to the early hours of the next morning. Dorian found that he did in fact mind that there had been a lack of passion but then it wasn’t every day that he would return with a dragon. For a moment he was awash with jealousy. It was selfish but then he’d always been a man who‘d wanted everything all at once. He longed for Bull, but no sooner then the jealousy had arrived than it was gone again. As different as this homecoming was he could not really begrudge this delay. 

Bull had found his voice and was wandering around the room showing Ataashi every aspect of their quarters. Dorian felt slightly ridiculous calling a dragon ‘dragon’ even if it was in a foreign language but he was damned if he was going to call her Princess Dawnstone either. That was a topic that they would revisit at an appropriate time, preferably when Dorian could string an eloquent phrase together. Surveying her new queendom she looked exceptionally comfortable. Dorian wondered that he’d ever thought that it might be difficult for her to meet Bull. He could cut an intimidating figure when he needed too but he knew how to be gentle too, Dorian could attest to that, and it was that gentle kindness that she was drawing from him now. And she showed no signs of relinquishing his horns anytime soon. 

Abandoning the tub or face sleeping in it all night Dorian dressed in loose cotton trousers and a robe. He felt not only cleaner but more himself. His over attentive grooming of hair and moustache was watched by too pairs of eyes; one carnal the other curious. The look in Bull’s eye warmed him. It was full of promise and flattened any lingering doubt of Dorian’s that he was no longer wanted or needed. It was with a smile that he abandoned his vanity. 

“Now we can relax,”

There was a knock at the door

“Kost Imekari Ataashi,” Bull said offering a soothing hand to the tense and wary creature the dragon had instantly become at the sound.

“Kaffas, can we get no peace,” Dorian swore under his breath.

Upon answering the door he ushered in the two people that he found on the other side, not willingly but because the Inquisitor and Cullen came bearing food and what looked to be a truly excellent bottle of wine. Cullen looked confused as to why he had been dragged away from his desk to bring food to Bull and Dorian when the whole of Skyhold knew they would be otherwise occupied but the Inquisitor had been insistent and left no room for his refusal. And so here he was wondering what in the name of the maker was going on. 

“I’m afraid I couldn’t wait any longer,” Evie said her eyes glowing with mischief as she placed the offering of dinner on the table. She had been the only person that Dorian had told and who had even seen the dragon up to now. Dorian had felt it only right that he ask her permission to bring Ataashi to Skyhold. To her credit she had hesitated for only a few minutes before she had eventually agreed.

“So? Has he seen her?” 

Dorian closed the door and indicated his companions. Bull had stepped to the far side of the room and had taken up a defensive stance. Feet apart, hands on hips and shoulders square. Every line of his body said that he was ready to move, and move quickly, if necessary. His great axe was also within easy reach. The equally defensive dragon on his head took the edge off the threat though, being far too young to carry off such a scowl. It was the face of an angry kitten - all fire and no bite. 

Finally understanding what he saw Cullen’s eyes comically popped out of his head. Evie clapped Cullen on the back. 

“Commander, meet the latest member of my inquisition,” 

“What the.. but it’s a.. that…..Andraste’s flaming bedsocks,” Cullen almost tripped over his own feet to get a closer look but was pulled up short by Dorian.

“Where? How?… Dorian?”

“You have words commander, may I suggest that you use a few more of them,” Dorian teased.

“It’s a dragon Dorian. Are you crazy? What were you thinking?” Cullen demanded loudly. He was not happy. 

What he saw was a dragon, of the kind that would eat his men and burn villages. He saw what many would see. It was a reaction Dorian had been afraid of. And that was why Evie had brought him here. Win Cullen over and half the battle, if there had to be a battle, would be won. Dorian forgot just how clever and devious his friend could be. If there was any doubt about her plan the look she shot Dorian banished it. Evie’s light touch on Cullen’s arm stopped the commander reaching for his sword.

“As I explained to Evie she’s rare, not aggressive and will be little bigger than Bull once she’s fully grown. Just like Bull. But less horns and more tail.” Dorian was trying to help. Evie’s snort of laughter did not. 

“You knew?” Cullen seemed confused turning to the inquisitor. 

“Of course,” Evie smiled working hard to lighten the atmosphere in the room. Cullen hadn’t taken his eyes off the dragon and Bull hadn’t taken his eye off Cullen. They were moments away from trouble and Dorians fingertips itched with magic just in case he needed to call on it. He’d freeze them both to the floor if he had to. 

“I would never put anyone here at risk,” Dorian said with seriousness. He was a little hurt that Cullen thought he would. Cullen nodded accepting the mage’s words. 

“She looks much better. I could hardly tell what she was when I first saw her. She’d been so badly treated. Worse than those mabari pups in Redcliffe,” her words, while true, were designed to hit Cullen hard. Cullen had saved every one of those pups. To her mind this was no different. 

“I’ve worked as much healing as she will allow. The rest now is food and rest and safety,” Dorian said. “Which reminds me.”

With a flick of his wrist Dorian cast a barrier around the box she had arrived in. As it glowed bright he contained the pulse of power that shattered the box into a thousand splinters. He cast it into the fireplace and set them alight. 

“I promised. There would be no more boxes or cages once we were back in Skyhold,” whether they liked it or not Dorian would do what was right. By the way Bull felt the dragon relax he could tell that she agreed. Definitely smart. Both Princess and his Kadan.

“You know I’d heard that pets and their owners grow to look alike, I just didn’t think that it would happen this soon,” Evie’s observation cut the remaining tension in the room. 

“So what’s your intention?” Cullen asked. “Will you train her? Take her into battle? It could look quite intimidating to have a dragon on the field. Once she’s bigger she could fight along side the inquisition forces.”

Bull growled, he actually growled. The small calm had not lasted long. 

“My dragon. Mine,”

“No need to get your panties in a bunch Bull.” Evie cooed. “Cullen is just considering all possible outcomes. It’s his job and no more than a question.” 

“We honestly haven’t thought about it Evie. We’re just settling in,” Dorian rushed in to stop the new and unhealthy rise in tension.

“So allow me to put it this way. If there is ever a time when she either wants or requires training. I will be happy to assist but the decision is entirely yours. And hers,” It was Cullen’s attempt to keep the peace. It also made it clear that he was onboard with the newest addition to Skyhold.

“And on that note. I think we’ll leave you to it. Enjoy dinner,” Evie steered Cullen towards the door. “And you and Bull should try not traumatise your new room mate too much”

The door closed behind them and once more they were alone. The Mage, The Bull, and the Dragon.


	4. Silence is Golden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull thanks Dorian for the Dragon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So as promised in the tags here is a little Smutty McSmuttiness. 
> 
> If Smut isn't your thing I suggest you skip over this chapter - normal service will resume next time. If it is your thing I hope you enjoy - i have never published smut before.... ;)
> 
> I also apologise for any mistakes. I've checked it but it's late, it's not beta'ed but i wanted to post something as I won't be able to for the next couple of days.

Bull stands entirely still in the middle of the room letting the events of the day sink in. It’s far from quiet as sounds from the tavern filter up to meet them. The inquisitor is home safe and there is much drinking to be done. However, it is here in this room that he feels a peace that he hasn’t known since he was just a little bull sitting on his Tama’s knee. It’s a peace that comes from the soft sounds of Dorian sleeping and the softer breaths of a dreaming dragon. Once more the ground has shifted, and once again Bull has been given more than he has asked for; more than he expected. He had thought he would need to ground himself, that such happiness could only lead to madness, but he has found only clarity in this joy. As he stands amid sleep Bull vows that he will accept it for the joy it is. Maybe at last he had learnt to dream. 

But it is not a dream. Following dinner Dorian had retired to bed, fighting against sleep for as long as he could. Princess had followed not long after, choosing the warmth and comfort of Bull’s pillowy bosoms. Eventually Bull had relinquished his armful of dragon and so had pulled up the one good chair to a spot in front of the fire for her. Adding a blanket Bull had tucked the young dragon into the folds. It was the chair Dorian liked to read in, only a little smaller than his one in the library, and with Dorian’s familiar smell Bull hoped that it would comfort the little dragon and bring her sweet dreams because he had plans. Plans that require he get naked.

Shedding his clothes Bull was already half hard and wanting. Running a hand along his shaft he caught the bead of pre cum that clung to the head. He considered for a moment that it would be better to take care of himself and let his mage sleep. Their reunion could wait. Thrusting into his tight fist a huff of breath exploded from between his lips. He would’t last long.

Even as he chased his own pleasure Bull knew the precise moment when Dorian woke. Sleep was immediately banished from the mage’s face, chased away by heat and wanting but despite that desire there was hesitation.

“We might wake her,” if possible Dorian’s sleep ruffled voice only made Bull harder. “I would rather not traumatise her. I would also prefer not to have an audience. Or interruptions for that matter”

Bull’s glance went immediately to the chair. There was the steady line of the dragon’s breathing and the high back of the chair blocked Dorian and Bull from sight.

“I can be quiet if you can.” Bull issued the challenge blithely already doubting their ability as they had never succeeded at ‘quiet’ yet. 

The talking done with, Dorian held back the covers tolerating the colder air by knowing the temperature would soon rise. It was all the invitation that Bull needed. As much as he wanted to take his time, admire every inch of flawless skin there was still the steady thrum of need and the way his cock pulsed within his palm. Slipping into bed beside his lover Bull buried his face in the curve of Dorian's neck and the familiar musky citrus scent. Smooth skin over strengthened muscle stretched tight as Dorian bared his neck offering Bull all the room he needed to work. Bull’s tongue darted out between kisses to taste and remap his territory before marks of ownership were liberally laid down. Marks that blossomed in shades of glorious red but in the coming days would take on a more autumnal hue.

Limbs flowed over and around each other settling only when Bull had mostly covered Dorian's body with his own. Careful not to crush the mage he let one hand cradle Dorian’s head, fingers lacing through hair, as the other drew lines of caresses along his chest. Settling the first of many kisses to Dorian’s lips Bull could feel the tension in the body, the resistance, the uncertainty as he cast one more look towards the chair. It was unwanted as Bull had no such doubts. Leaning forward, the strength of his body and the heat of his kisses coaxed Dorian into offering himself up for their mutual pleasure. Relentless kisses allowed no time for a breath, Bull licking up into Dorian’s mouth and Dorian grasping what air he could before biting Bull’s lip. Tasting the bloom of copper as he drew blood the mage took the sting out of the act and placed smaller, softer, sweeter kisses on the now swollen Qunari’s mouth. 

Rocking into Dorian, Bull’s cock was hard and leaking where it rubbed against the soft cotton of the unnecessary trousers. They were an intolerable barrier to what Bull wanted which was the naked joy of skin on skin; the silken slide of two bodies pressed so tightly together they could be one. Between kisses he softly growled his displeasure every thought dropping away except that if completion. He could smell his own arousal and so could Dorian. Bull’s mouth launched a new onslaught, a fresh campaign of fierce, penetrating kisses designed to conquer and persuade Dorian's to grant him entry.

Bulls hand slipped between Dorian's legs, stripping him bare and leaving him open to every one of his whims. Every touch was electric, a divine profanity that would undo them both. Bull’s smile for a moment turned feral, drawing a blush from Dorian that made his cheeks burn and clouded his already foggy mind. Bull had been planning for Dorian's return, the oil within easy reach. Keeping his eye firmly fixed on his lover Bull retreated from the kisses just as his hand moved down, following the line of tight muscle, past his navel, to the pool of pre-cum that had gathered there. Dorian clutched blindly at the hand, uncertain if it was all too fast, or two slow; too much or not enough. When Dorian didn’t stop him Bull continued onwards. He could feel how desperate Dorian’s breathing was, how close to the edge he must be. 

As the tips of Bull’s fingers grazed the base of his cock Dorian lets his legs fall open further, a silent plea for more made without the shame that marked the early days and nights within this room. Bull celebrates it, accepts it without comment, and accepts too that without words Dorian has turned into a wild and writhing thing that he has no patience to ignore. Cupping Dorian’s cock and balls and rolling them in the palm of his hand Bull thumbed the head, sliding through the generous slick. Remembering just in time the need for quiet Dorian sinks his teeth into the back of his own hand as Bull’s perfect touch caresses every good spot. Bull wrings his pleasure from him with clever hands. Dorian swallows down his deep long moans, a further encouragement for Bull to keep up the assault. When Dorian moans again Bull swallows it into his kiss that was just as relentless and unforgiving as the hand that runs the length of his hot and heavy erection. Dorian wonders if he has ever been this hard before, he thinks he must have been, if only he had the strength of mind to recall. Suddenly he is coming, the fire bright in its flash and burn. Biting his lip to stay silent, his body a perfect arc of tension as he comes in Bull’s hand, long and hard, the words held back behind clenched teeth, Dorian believes that he may indeed be a god.

“There’s my good boy, so perfect for me. So perfect,” Bull whispers, his breath too warm, like his words that continue to light Dorian up from the inside.

Sinking back into the mattress Dorian releases his death grip on the sheets and on Bull’s arm, but keeps a lingering connection to ground him in the moment lest he float away. His chest heaves as if he has run through all of Thedas. Sweat cooled on his skin. His voice lost to necessary silence forced him to offer thanks in the brief tightening of a hand and a smile he hopes Bull will see even in the dark. Fighting to open his eyes again Dorian seeks out the solid shadow form of his lover. It was unmistakably him. The single eye seeing and knowing too much but he couldn’t find it in himself to name regrets. Bull raised his hand to his mouth. Reverently he licks Dorian's release from his fingers. Consuming each and every drop, he made a show of it, his tongue running over palm and digits lasciviously.

As their breathing subsides small adjustments jostle them together. Dorian’s still sensitive cock rubs against Bull’s thigh leaving a trail of cum in its wake. Dorian wants to follow it with his tongue but he’s boneless. It’s an odd thing to be so satiated and so hungry; to have the desire but not the means to fulfil it. Thankfully there was another in his bed to fulfil the desire. Not allowing Dorian even a moment to rest Bull returned his hand to his lovers body using the damp of his fingers to ease the first one inside the delicious heat of Dorian's tight body. Biting back another cry, Dorian is more determined than ever not to be the first to break the quiet as he has been the first to find release.

Wanting Bull to find that same satisfaction Dorian reached for him only to find himself flipped over suddenly. The cool air against his back was shocking for a moment before Bull once again moved in close. Burying his face in damp but silken strands of hair Bull listens as his lover whimpers at the graze of sheets against his too sensitive cock and balls. He is a Qunari of simple pleasures and this is one of them. A line of kisses is placed down Dorian’s back and Bull buries his tongue in the hot little pucker he finds at the end of the trail. He licks it open even as he plunges a thick finger inside his beautiful boy’s sweet little hole. Burying his head in the pillow Dorian bucked up into the touch needing more, needing Bull. He wants but he clings now to the quiet and so he refuses to put words to his need. Clutching at any part of Bull he can find, his needy hands grasp at hot flesh. Dorian fucks himself on Bull’s tongue and fingers, his cock already filling again, the need to cum building in the pit of his stomach. As three fingers sink deep into Dorian’s ass Bull admires the stretch and the generous way Dorian shares his body with him. Pushing Dorian’s leg aside to give him more room to take his pleasure Bull admires the long lean lines of the beautiful body. He needs more time but his own throbbing cock also needs to find satisfaction and soon. It demands it. He is so hard, there is a physical ache that only one thing that will satisfy. 

Curling himself around Dorian’s body Bull sinks into the tight heat, easing his way in. Wrapping an arm around Dorians chest Bull pulls him close, no space for anything between them. The long slow caress of Bulls hard cock, balls deep and back again, possesses the perfect tempo for the torture of a slow build. Dorian doubts he can take it. 

"Can you feel that Kadan? How deep I am? How much I need you?”

The words pour into his ear, no louder than a breath. Dorian would have missed them except every particle of his being was attuned to Bull; inside and out he was possessed. Dorian tries to bury his head in the pillow but there’s no escape from Bull or from the cock that drills him open. He is thankful for the small mercy of two of Bull’s fingers as they slip into his mouth. Dorian fellates them, not caring that he looks debauched and half wrecked. He cares even less as Bull bites and licks and kisses his way along Dorian's neck and back. Dorian wants to move. He needs to move but Bull holds him tight; tight enough to stop him from seeking his own release. He can only take what Bull so generously offers but that has never stopped him before. 

Pushing himself back into the solid wall of muscle that is Bull the undulations of Dorian’s body draw growls of possession from them both. The twist in his own body holds Dorian taught like a pulled bow string. His ass, cradled in the curve of Bull’s hips, is filled and stretched by the cock that somehow feels bigger than he remembers. Bull’s size overwhelmed him; the wide shoulders, the strong arms, heavy thighs that framed the beautifully monstrous cock. A near constant stream of words Dorian doesn’t know are poured into his ear as finally the pace picks up and Bull grinds their bodies together. They are adrift in a gathering storm. Eager for his release Dorian squeezes tight around Bull’s cock, increasing the friction on Bull’s shaft. Twisting his head Dorian needs sight of his lover. Seeking kisses Bull finds his mouth, invading with the same gentle certainty that is Dorian’s undoing. 

It’s only the stutter of Bull’s hips that give Dorian any warning before Bull buries himself as deep as he can be in Dorian’s ass, flooding his body with his seed. Shuddering breaths ghost over the back of his neck and words ease Dorian into his own climax. Gentle at first it overwhelms him, his vision blacking out as his body shakes. Collapsing into the mattress Dorian swears he is floating even as Bull remains inside him.


	5. Dangerous Conversations & Things Best Not Thought About

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull introduces his Dragon to another of Skyhold's residents, the fortress, and discovers a few truths...

Bull let himself out of his room and closed the door quietly behind him so as not to wake the sleeping mage. After the trip back from Val Royeaux, and especially after the night they’d had Dorian would need all the rest he could get. Bull grew warm and half hard at the memory. In the normal course of things he would never have left a warm bed with a hot mage but he was hungry and knew Dorian would be too. He had hopes to keep Dorian in bed all day but to achieve such a task wold require him to be prepared.

It was still early and blessedly peaceful. Other than Cullen’s men on guard there was not another soul in sight. The Tavern had been alive with noise until long past the midnight bell and into the morning watch. Dawn had been breaking when Bull had surfaced from sleep long enough to recognise the absence of noise. It would mean that most people would still be in bed, either their own or someone else’s, and nursing keen and vicious hangovers. He and Dorian would have been conspicuous in their absence but given how enthusiastic the boss had been to return, and given how much she was wont to drink when in such a mood, it was likely that all of Skyhold knew what had accompanied Dorian back from Val Royeaux. Evie was a great Boss, but with a few drinks, and around friends she had trouble holding her tongue. Bull would have enjoyed seeing the reactions. 

 

The air was crisp and clear with enough of a chill that his breath plumed for a few moments before it evaporated away into the ether. There had been a light dusting of snow over night and the mist and clouds clung low over the surrounding mountains. It heralded the oncoming winter. Bull took the long walk along the wall and then down the steps into the lower courtyard. He rarely admitted it, seeing neither reason or purpose voicing such thoughts, but he enjoyed the fortress when it was so deserted. There was a calm to be found that allowed him to centre his mind like the best meditation. He would almost say that he was alone except that he was not. Resting against his chest was a Dragon, still a little sleepy but also very curious. Bull kept his hands lightly clasped around her as she strained her neck to look around. 

Bull was in no great hurry and took the walk slowly pointing out the buildings and the sights as they passed. He took them as far as the library picking up a couple of books from Dorian’s favourite chair. His research had been waiting for him and the mage would be eager to return to it and by that reasoning if Bull was to reunite Dorian with his studies in their room there would be less reason for Dorian to do something rash like leave their bed, or put on clothes. 

There was then a quick detour to the kitchen where he bribed on of the cooks into packing a basket for him to take back to the sleeping mage. All the time Princess kept close to Bull, shrinking into his large palms whenever people came close. Her fear of people was palpable as she cowered, making herself as small as possible. That she saw Bull as something to trust in made him feel things he would never be able to express. 

It was only when Bull’s stomach growled with hunger, the surprised look that startled the dragon making him bellow with laughter, that he turned back towards the tavern.

“Now this is a very important place. If not the most important place in all of Skyhold,” Bull announced as he pushed open the door.

The scene that greeted them clearly suggested that a good time had been had by all the night before. A few people had chosen to simply sleep where they had fallen, some still clinging to their half empty tankards, or their companions. Several chairs had been broken and if Bull was not mistaken a pair of silky underthings dangled hopelessly from the rafters. 

Cole was one of the few people who were present and awake. Hunched over a bowl of porridge the kid was staring into its oaty depths. To Bull’s trained eye the kid could be debating its use as food or seeking its higher purpose. He was poking the offending cereal with his spoon as if it might attack at any moment.

Bull stepped over prone bodies planning to find a seat at his usual table and leave Cole to his private deliberations but Princess had other ideas. Leaping from Bull’s shoulder she landed daintily on the end of Cole’s table and scampered along towards him. She seated herself on the other side of the bowl. Cole looked up and smiled. He leaned forward and then so did the dragon. They rested nose to muzzle, staring into each others eyes. The floppy rim of Cole’s hat rested on top of the dragon’s head hiding her from view. Bull took a seat next to Princess because, just in case no one knew, this was his Dragon and Cole was Cole and the kid was creepy. And this was his dragon.

From the moment they entered Bull knew that every other eye in the tavern was on them. From the handful of Cullen’s men in the corner to bleary eyed Cabot engaging in a resentful and hushed argument with one of the staff Bull’s new companion had attracted their attention. Bull made it clear he needed food but was promptly ignored. Cabot was shrinking beneath the wild gesticulation of the barmaid. Lacking all subtlety she sent Bull the stink eye although that could be his fault and not Princess’s as he had not been her friend since Dorian had graced his bed. Eventually Cabot came over and took Bull’s order but he had to return a few moments later. He had forgotten every word Bull said; distracted by the dragon in his tavern. 

“I knew she was coming. I could feel her. The minute that Dorian came close,” Cole looked up, his slightly weary bloodshot eyes pinning Bull in place.

“Really kid,” Bull knew better than to question Cole, mostly because he didn’t understand half of what he said, but the fact that Cole seemed to be aware of Princess was definitely information that Bull needed to file away. 

“So much pain, blossoming numb, not here, but before. She wanted to die, hoped for it, hoped for it like a bright light in a dark room,” Cole pushed his bowl of porridge towards her. “She was lost in my greatest fear”

“It’s a good thing the Vint found her then”

“Dorian took the pain away. Not all of it but enough,”

Of course he did thought Bull. Dorian was healing wounds on another because there was no hope that he would ever be able to heal his own. Bull understood that. He knew exactly how deep the scars left by family and homeland and prejudice and bullshit ran. Bull reminded himself that Dorian was safe and upstairs as he put a protective hand around the slight and undernourished body of his dragon. Slowly he stroked her back, top of her head to tip of her tail, as she lapped at the porridge. The porridge was soon forgotten though when the plate of hot salty bacon arrived. Waving the heat off a slice he offered it to her. Tentatively she sniffed it, then took it from him, snatching the end up into her jaws. She handled it clumsily. If her claws had not been so viciously cut like her horns then the act would have been much easier. Tearing apart the crusty loaf of bread he offered her a piece and one to Cole too. Cole took it but observed it much like he had the bowl of porridge. Next Bull peeled the shell off a hard boiled egg for his pet and laughed when she stuffed it in her mouth in one go, the round bulge slipping neatly down her elegant throat.

“I see I’m going to have to keep my eye on you,” He stroked her affectionately, marvelling once more that she seemed to trust him so completely. It was a horn thing. It had to be. Bull ate and drank, fed his dragon and ignored the attention of the taverns other occupants. 

“She likes you,”

“That’s good to know,” Bull said.

“But she doesn’t like her name. You do not know her name. Until you do she will be a stranger.”

“She has a name?”

“It was the last thing her mother gave her. Dead. So much red, rivers of red, warm blood when they killed her. She saw it all…” Cole’s voice railed off into his thoughts. 

Bull swallowed hard, not liking what he was hearing. The food stuck in his throat. He had killed enough dragons in his time to know what a mess it could be. He had gloried in those kills, in the triumph of testing his skill and brute force against such power only to bring it down and snuff it out. That he was now caring for an orphaned dragonlet was an irony not lost on him. This was why Bull tried to avoid Cole, there was always the likelihood of dangerous conversations and things best not thought about. 

“Do not worry The Iron Bull. Not every Dragon is a high dragon, just as you are not every Qunari. Some people are just themselves and she is definitely herself”

“So what’s she called?”

“It’s not clear, just a picture,” Cole fell silent. He seemed to look inside himself but the way her head dropped to one side suggested that he and the Dragon were having some kind of silent exchange.

“She is the long burning flame in a slowly dying fire,”

“An ember? Her name is Ember,” no sooner had the picture formed in his mind than Bull knew it to be true. Bull offered Ember more bacon. She took it. For a moment she met his gaze. Bull looked up to thank Cole but the kid was gone.

“Don’t take it personally. He does that a lot. And so should we.” Gathering food and his dragon Bull made his way to back to his mage. As he climbed the stairs Bull could only think how happy Dorian would be that she was no longer Princess Dawnstone. She had a name with meaning, and it was entirely her own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Time: Trouble!!!


	6. The Unexpected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life settles back into the normal routine, even the arrival of a Dragon can't stop that, but there is always something unexpected that threatens life as they know it...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised trouble and here we are.. It's a little dark and if you think you may be triggered by discussion of bullying, physical assault etc then you may want to skip this.

Bull stood on the edge of the training ground knowing that he was late for a meeting with the Boss. However as Cullen was also standing just a few feet in front of him, and was also due at the same meeting, Bull felt he could take liberties and linger a little longer. Cullen had acknowledged Bull’s presence with a nod but said nothing as his attention remained on the training his men were involved in. Bull always noted how diligent Cullen had been in his duties. Diligent. Sincere. Ernest. Committed. All words that Bull had used, written over and over in ink that might as well have been blood, before he was declared to be Tal-Vashoth. The change in his circumstances had done nothing to change his opinion of the commander. With the threat from Corypheus and the Venatori hanging over them all there was no respite in the preparations. It was why Cullen had made an unusual request, not of Bull but of Dorian. 

The training ground was full of men, drill after drill being worked through to the resounding clanking of shields and the clash of swords. There was the stench of burning wet earth and acrid adrenaline that brought a familiar rush to Bull, a quickening of his blood that made him want to get in there and swing his axe around. There was the acute smell of sweat in the air, the cold morning making their breath rise in plumes, steam rising from their bodies and from the balls of fire that Dorian was aiming at the soldiers. This was the request Cullen had made; to use Dorian as the ultimate example of what well trained mages were capable of. It was one more skill for the soldiers to gain, one more experience of what they might face. It was a commander preparing his men in the hope of saving as many lives as he could, knowing that in the end he would not be able to save them all. 

Bull understood; and yet he did not. These sessions had been going on for a while, not often, but regularly enough that it was starting to feel like a habit. Bull had opinions about whether this was a good idea, opinions that he’d kept to himself. Dorian was his own man and had been eager to contribute when asked. As Dorian had pointed out at the time there was nothing he could do that would either change people’s minds about him or make them hate him more. Therefore, he might as well play to his strengths and that was exactly what he was doing. 

Dorian had thrown himself into the task with the same unbridled passion he showed any task he enjoyed. He had committed himself to the point where he had drained himself and his mana. He had pushed himself so far as to put himself into the infirmary at least twice. Dorian had seen it as something to be proud of; that he was able to both attack the soldiers while protecting them with all manner of barriers. It was as if he could not do enough to atone for the sins of his fellow countrymen.

There was no doubt that his efforts had been of help but such unbound enthusiasm had done Dorian no favours with the general populace of Skyhold. Too many were already willing to view him as the terror they thought him to be, that his displays on the training ground only added fuel to the fire. It was why he had been taken to Val Royeaux, not that he had been told that at the time. Bull had gleaned that information one night when Cullen’s right hand man had let it slip over too many ales. It was proof Bull had been right to be concerned and why he would be keeping a watchful eye on the mage. 

Dorian was always a pleasure to watch. Bull never made it a secret that he took pleasure in watching the mage whether they were on a mission or in the privacy of his room. But there was something special about watching Dorian when he was unleashing the full depth of his magic. Here he was poetry in motion as he cast incantation after incantation, words falling from his lips as his body and staff moved as one, conducting chaos and destruction. With a final summoning a wall of ice ran like a wave across the ground, cresting like a clawed hand over the heads of the soldiers, as if time itself had frozen a wave. 

“Enough,” Cullen bellowed

Dorian stood, his chest heaving against the exertion. Other than that there was little outward sign that he had been so vividly active. A single word and Dorian shattered the ice. It fell to the ground in shards around the dazed figures of the warriors. Even then then soldiers didn’t relax, tense and wary that Dorian would not obey the request to stop. As Cullen wandered over to those under his command Dorian stepped aside and wandered over to Bull, self restrained grace in every step. 

For once it had been Dorian who had risen first. Dressing in the half light of the room as Bull had watched the mage closely from the bed, the art of dressing a reverse striptease as Dorian prepared to step out into the world. On the few occasions he was privileged to watch such a thing Bull paid close attention, gaining insights not only into Dorian’s habits but hints too on how he might remove those clothes quicker. It was a rare morning that Bull had no where to be, Krem requesting that training for the Chargers take place later in the day. So Bull had lingered as Ember had crawled in the warm spot that Dorian had left behind. 

Dorian took a healing potion from his belt and drank it down. Bull noticed it like he noticed everything. They lingered for a moment on the edge of the training ground. Close but not too close, the short distance between them speaking of restrained intimacy. If Dorian was aware of the distrustful looks some of Cullen’s men spared him he showed no sign of it. 

“Don’t wear yourself out,” Bull felt it to be a necessary warning after previous attempts and as much as he knew Dorian was more than capable for taking care of himself he still couldn’t stop himself from checking Dorian for signs of injury

“The aim is to wear them out. Cullen told me not to hold back and I would never be so bold as to ignore such a request,” Dorian’s smile was bright, teasing.   
“Besides there really is no point in putting on a show if there’s nothing spectacular to look at. And I am spectacular. Therefore I shall work without restraint.”

“Unlike last night. Then you were only too happy to be restrained,”

“Last night was a different matter all together,” Dorian could feel his cheeks warm. Even now he could not think of Bull without some reaction. There was that fire burning in Bull’s one clear eye, full of unspoken promise, that made Dorian shiver with anticipation. Dorian felt heat gather in his own face so he looked away, his eyes falling on the tavern, looking at where Bull’s room was located. 

“Are you sure she’ll be ok?” Dorian asked.

Bull knew immediately what he was talking about; the small sleeping dragon that they had left in Bull’s room. They had been trying to be less protective by leaving her in small increments, slowly increasing the time to build her confidence and independence. That didn’t mean that they both hadn’t fussed over her and there were still a great many people that they had yet to introduce Ember to.

“We can look after he needs without making her needy” Bull said, his smile indulgent.

“That’s not what you usually tell me,” 

“Different rules apply to you Kadan,” Bull winked in his ridiculous manner. “Besides I like it when you’re needy. Needy and begging for me to fuck you, begging to let you come.”

“You do fulfil my needs in the best possible way,”

“I can fill anything you want,” plenty of heat and a promise for later filled Bull’s words. It was a promise Dorian would make certain he kept.

“So she’ll be ok?”

“She’ll be fine,” Bull couldn’t help but think that Ember would be more than fine. She had been fed and curled up on their bed and was sleeping when they left. She had cracked open as eye but that was all the acknowledgement she had offered of Bull’s departure. 

“You’ll be late,” Dorian took a step away needing to get his head back into what he was doing. Every inch becoming the proud, talented skilful mage again. 

 

“Fine. I’m going,” Bull said also stepping away. Dorian was right. He should have been in the map room minutes ago. Cullen seemed to have reached the same conclusion as he was running over to join them. 

“Will you continue?” Cullen asked.

“It will be my pleasure,” Dorian bowed with a flourish. It made Cullen’s blush even more ridiculous. With a laugh Dorian rejoined the soldiers and took up his place again. The men surrounding him in a revised formation. 

Bull felt his hackles rise. He told himself to calm, that there was no reason to worry. He risked one more look over his shoulder as he and Cullen fell into step beside each other and headed towards the war room. 

 

DA

 

Once in the war room Bull had been quick to put distraction aside. There were serious matters to attend to and serious plans to be made. For almost two hours now Bull, along with the Inquisitor, Cullen, Cassandra and Varric had all been huddled around a map of The Hinterlands talking strategy. There had been much to discuss not that Bull was saying much. News of a large and roaming hoard of bandits had reached them. Bandits were usually of little concern except that these were well armed and well equipped. They could be bandits, they could be something else. It these dangerous times nothing could be trusted and so they were going to take a look. It would be them and a group of Cullen’s men.

Bull was going along to supply muscle, and he certainly had plenty of that. Now that it had been decided he just wanted to get on with it. Bull understood why Cullen deemed it important that they all know the details of what had been arranged - they needed it to stay alive and to keep The Boss alive but Bull just wished that the details weren’t quite so dull. Talking strategy and planning was one thing but it really meant nothing because in five seconds facing an enemy plans could be blown away and it could all go to shit. He had that itching feeling under his skin, impatience. The sooner they started the sooner they would get back. Cassandra was equally determined to start, shifting from one foot to another, simply too polite to tell them to shut up and get on with it.

The door swung open with a bang. 

“Please. You have to come quickly sers,” a young man with a wild look in his eyes spoke urgently. “You have to stop them.”

With that the boy took off running again. They all stood there looking at the empty doorway dumbly for a few seconds before quickly following on behind.

As soon as he stepped outside Bull could smell it in the air. Anger, bitterness, it was the scent of Seheron. They all followed the boy who looked behind to make sure that they were indeed with him. As a group they raced across the now empty training grounds, the dirt churning beneath their feet. As they reached the foot of the wall they could hear the raised voices of a crowd, the shouting and arguing getting louder. What they were saying was indistinguishable, just so many voices, animalistic and raw and most of all angry. There was a hard edge to their voices and the smell of blood in the air. 

The boy took the steps up onto the battlements two at a time. Finally Bull and the other over took him reaching the top where there was nothing but sky and thin air all around. A crowd had gathered, pushed into the small space of the battlement, filling it edge to edge, jostling and pushing each other as they all raised their voices. 

Pushing his way through the first line of the gathered mob Bull felt his heart stop. Tall enough that he towered over their heads he had the clearest view of where their anger was directed.

Out in front of the crowd were half a dozen of Skyholds residents, some of them Cullen’s men, some of them not, directing the crowds fury towards a lone figure. Dorian. His face covered in blood, he teetered closer to the edge of the wall.

Lost to their hatred and unaware of the Inquisitions presence they hurled words and rocks for the entertainment of others. Another stone the size of a fist hit Dorian on the temple sending the mage to his knees and blood cascading down his face. Bull couldn’t seem to make himself act fast enough, pushing people aside, pushing through as another volley of rocks rained down on Dorian. Bull noted the lack of magical barrier or protection. Whatever ambush had led them here must have happened directly after training, when they knew that Dorian would be weak, unable to fight. With renewed force Bull continued to push people aside determined to get to Dorian before it was too late. 

The mage had a single arm raised to defend himself, deflecting a few of the missiles away from him body. Bull wondered if the other was injured but the small movement under his cloak told him that Dorian was not alone - he was protecting Ember. The cowards had attacked not only a weakened mage but a defenceless animal. Bull embraced the red mist of anger that settled into him. With a roar Bull grabbed one of the rock throwers and threw him aside. He tossed another into the baying crowd pushing them back only to have their blood lust turned on him, angry for the interruption. Dorian staggered to his feet again, dazed and disorientated.

“Get to Dorian,” Evie yelled. 

Bull did not need to be told twice and neither did Dorian’s attackers. Lost to the unreasonable nature of violence one of the men launched himself at Dorian, knocking him to the ground. Drawing a knife from his boot the man held it aloft, the sun glinting on the blade, before he brought it down with great force. 

Dorian did little more than whimper as the blade connected with his side, and then again with his back as he curled around the small body of his dragon, saving her yet again. With another stab of the blade Dorian was pushed closer yet again to the edge. He could feel the rush of wind as it soared past him, rising over the edge.

Dorian thought he could hear Bull but there was blood in his eyes and the taste of death in his mouth and all he could think was that this was not how he expected his life to end. He held tighter to Ember who had gone so very still within his protective embarce. Dorian could hear a rushing in his ears that he wasn’t sure if it was the sound of his own heart beating or if he was falling. All he knew was that there was no longer solid stone beneath him, there was only the air and it was rushing up to meet him.


	7. It's not the fall...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know! I'm an evil being for leaving you with such a cliff hanger but here we are.... hope you enjoy...
> 
> btw. It's not been beta'd so any mistakes are entirely my own - Sorry.

The moment Dorian had disappeared from sight Bull threw himself at the edge of the battlements. 

“Dorian.” Bull yelled, throwing out his hands. 

Reaching down it didn’t matter that Bull was precariously perched, that the hard stone edge of the wall cut into his belly. It only mattered that he catch the falling mage. The cold air rising from the rocky basin stung his eye. For a moment he could have sworn that he had the fabric of Dorian’s robes in his hand but then his fist closed in on itself, skin against skin and palm empty. Desperately he reached again but it was no use. It had been an illusion that Bull could save the man he had come to love. There was a moment when they looked into each other's eyes, their gazes locked. Dorian’s eyes flying wide as if he suddenly truly realised what was happening. Bull’s breath caught in his chest. He reached again, because while there was still a chance there was still hope. But hope would not save either of them. There was nothing Bull could do; Dorian was still falling away from him too quickly.

And then he wasn’t. Dorian’s body spasmed as if suddenly caught. He was held in the air as if hanging from an invisible string. Then he was not falling but flying; moving upwards, moving too quickly. No one could take their eyes from the limp form that moved in ways that no body should, moving in a way that ignored all the laws they knew the world operated by. Bull scrambled back onto the wall as Dorian passed him, the mage rising only to be dropped back onto the stone. As his body hit the hard surface of the battlements he rolled to a stop, a smear of blood marking his trail.

Bull waited dumbfounded, the rush of blood in his veins making him doubt what he had seen. The landing had lacked finesse but finesse could go fuck itself as far as Bull was concerned; Dorian was back on solid ground. Around him the crowd had fallen silent. No one had moved as they had watched, restrained by the swords of Evelyn, Cullen, Cassandra and Varric. After so much noise and anger the silence was eerie, full of the strong and silent fury that washed off them to pollute the air. The flash of white silk caught Bull’s eye, realisation crashing in on him as time caught up and voices rose once again. 

"It would appear there was a problem Inquisitor," Vivienne voice was as clear as cut crystal and just as cold. Vivienne lowered her staff.

"One that I will be dealing with Madame de Fer," Evelyn, the boss, was every inch the one in charge, the companions looking to her for instruction as to what to do with the gathered mob. 

The man who had been so intent on Dorian’s death reached for his knife but found the point of Cullen’s blade at his throat. His laugh was wild and the look in his eyes was one of madness. If he thought he could take his commander then he would have done so to get to the mage.

“I thank you for your assistance,” Evelyn added with a small bow. Even for the Inquisitor manners cost nothing. 

"It was the every least I could do for a valued companion," Vivienne turned to leave, then lingered, the flourish she added to the swing of her robe cutting the air as smoothly as a steel blade. "Should you require anything else please let me know.”

With those simple words she was gone. It was enough to pull Bull from his mindless stupor. Bull scrambled over to Dorian turning him over in his arms. There was too much blood both from where the ‘vint had been stabbed but also from the head wound. Pale and bleeding, Dorian groaned. His arms remained clutched tight around Ember, her eyes wide wild pools of black. Terrified, as she clung to her protection. Bull gathered the Mage and the dragon up and was on his feet ignoring the pain in his knee.

“Infirmary", was all he said, confident that Evie, Cullen and the others could deal with what was left of the shit storm.   
Bull pushed his way through the crowd. He didn't even stop when someone spat at the unconscious Dorian as they passed. Bull just filed the face away for a future time when that person might find themselves alone with Bull in a dark and deserted corner of the fortress where no one would hear them scream. 

 

 

The trip to the infirmary was a blur. Bull remembered laying Dorian on a cot and having to prize Ember from him. In his confusion Dorian refused to let go, thinking the threat remained. He was not alone. The terrified dragon had clawed in panic at Bull, not recognising a friend. Forced to step back himself Bull could only watch the healers work as he held his dragonling a little too tight. He whispered reassurances to her, offering her words that he wanted to give to Dorian, running his hands over her, feeling how hard her heart raced.

Time passed. As the healers announced their job done and Dorian slipped into an unquiet rest Bull took the seat at his bedside. Ember also slept, exhaustion dragging her under, but she whimpered, issuing soft mews of distress and never quite able to relax. 

Bull watched Dorian’s breathing. He measured his own body by it, used it as a meditation to calm his own anger that still boiled within him. The first chance he got he would be out in the training ground knocking something to pieces. For now though he had to sit and endure too many questions and not enough answers. Unfortunately the calm offered him time to think and of all the thoughts that assaulted him the one that disturbed him the most was Ember’s presence on the wall. 

It was the hand on his shoulder startled him.

“How is he?” Evie slid into the space beside Bull, rested against him so that she might silently offer some comfort.

“He'll survive,” Bull wanted to add that Dorian shouldn't have to just ‘survive’. That he deserved more than violence from another group of people willing to take what he offered only to treat him like shit in return.

"Cullen's thrown them all in the cells,"

Bull grunted his acknowledgement.

"He's going to leave them there until I return. Give them time to think about what they've done. Give me time to calm down so I don't eviscerate them and send them wailing into the fade.”

“I could help you with that,” Bull’s voice was just a little too dark to be joking. He wasn’t joking, he really wasn’t. He could do that. “Look, Boss…”

Bulls words were cut short by the hand on his shoulder squeezing in reassurance. 

“I know. I’ve already spoken to Krem and I’m going to borrow the chargers. Take them with me. You can stay here. You should stay here.”

Bull knew that he should go. He wondered when personal affairs began to rank higher than the job but this was different. He could insist he go, pretend this was nothing different but it would be a lie and he’d tried to leave dishonesty behind him when Hissrad ceased to be. He could tell Krem and the chargers to watch out for Dorian but even if Bull did go with the inquisitor his head would be back here when it needed to be there. He would be a liability. 

“Thanks,” was all he could think to say. “Do we know what happened?”

“They haven't said, at least nothing coherent. A lot of ranting and curse words that would make even you blush,” Evie was trying to lighten the mood but even she could feel that it was falling short.   
“Apparently the evil Tevinter Mage and his huge dragon are going to kill us all. They’re obviously both undercover agents of Corypheus. They’re also responsible for all blights, droughts, famine, and wars. Oh, and Dorian has apparently been feeding Skyhold’s babies and infants to Ember,”

“Was he also laughing maniacally and twirling his moustache?” Bull could make the effort if the Boss could.

“Probably. But the fact is that he’s controlling all our minds, so there’s a lot I’m missing apparently,” Evie patted Bull’s shoulder. The touch was soft and ineffectual. It would do nothing to solve the underlying problem of too much ignorance and suspicion. 

“I’ll see you when we get back. We’ll all drink a toast in the tavern.”

“Sure thing Boss,” Bull muttered as he settled in for a long wait.


	8. Intimidation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath - Pt1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay in posting - RL got a bit sucky... needless to say this is not the chapter I planned on writing - and I'm sorry for that too.... more (and better) later (fingers crossed)

Memory was a tricky thing. Especially for someone like Bull who rarely forgot anything thanks to his training. He knew he would never forget the last few days. After the attack on Dorian and Ember it was safe to say that nothing at Skyhold was quite the same. Suspicion was rife and with the Inquisitor away there was an odd silence that pervaded all corners of the keep. Opinion, like the population of the fort itself, was divided. Bull was one of the few to keep his opinion to himself but on the rare occasion he moved around the more public areas it was impossible not to hear the whispers. 

The attack had divided them all and not simply into a pro or con killing Dorian. He was gratified that there were enough people willing to hold off passing judgement, and even some who were defending Dorian. Cullen had been dispelling the rumour that he’d ordered the attack, and had even given Mother Giselle short shrift when she had seen fit to congratulate him for his ‘heroic forethought’ in public. However, there were still those who thought that pushing Dorian off the battlements wasn’t enough, that insufficient amounts of pain were involved. In short it was a mess and the only thing that continued to unite them all was the collective holding of breath as they waited for the other boot to drop.

Bull was also happy to wait. Dorian had escaped the infirmary at the first possible opportunity, retreating to his room with Ember, seeking comfort in the familiar. Bull had followed willingly. There was nowhere he wanted to be but with the family he’d almost lost. The understanding that they were avoiding the tavern was shrouded in a conspiracy of silence. Bull’s room had been trashed during Dorian’s ambush and the search for Ember. From the debris left behind Bull could see that it had been a violent encounter, and so he had simply closed and locked the doors and walked away not at all certain that he would return. 

And so the fact was that neither of them had left the mage’s room in days. They had wrapped themselves around each other in Dorian’s smaller bed and if they did not sleep for the nightmares that haunted them then at least they had each other. Dorian had been unusually silent, as he was afraid that making any sound would draw unwanted attention. As neither of them were willing to relive those awful moments and so they had turned avoidance into an art and shifted their attention onto their dragon. Ember had taken to living under Dorian’s bed, whimpering even in her sleep. They had both done their best to soothe her but for every small victory they won, for every minute they managed to coax her out, for every morsel of food they tempted her with, it was not enough to undo the damage that had been wrought by ignorant and cruel acts. 

Cullen had visited briefly but because on catching sight of the uniform Dorian had flinched and paled and so the commander had done the decent thing and departed swiftly. Dorian had cried after. Bull had held him and done what he could to tamp down his anger. Later he had gone down to the training ring and destroyed a few things. Later still Bull finally caught up with Cullen and over an ale he’d made the foolish promise not to do anything hasty. 

In his defence ’hasty’ was a term that was open to interpretation, and Bull was certain that this wouldn’t count. He was just out for a leisurely stroll. A gentle walk amongst the scenic views and rancid, stale air of Skyhold’s dungeons. That he was sauntering in front of the cells was pure coincidence. That he occasionally stopped to observe the prisoners was nothing Cullen would need to worry about - should he ever find out. 

At times like these he was happy to play the big bad Qunari but this was no game and he wasn’t playing. The way Bull trained his eye on each of the prisoners, keen to divide them into the genuinely murderous and those who had simply been swept up in the moment was equally unimportant. That they all cowered when his head tilted as just such an angle that one of his horns ran along the cell bars as he walked was purely for his own edification - a little payback he felt he was owed. Bull felt absolutely no remorse for the implied silent threat. Bull stopped again and stretched. He flexed his muscles.

“Time for lunch,” Bull patted his stomach and winked. Friend or Foe? Best to keep them all guessing.

 

As Bull stepped out into the sunshine he found Josie at his elbow. 

“I should like to take a walk with you, The Iron Bull,” in the most formal manner possible she linked an arm through his and steered them towards the kitchens. The rustle of the silk robe she wore was oddly soothing and reminded Bull of Dorian. 

“Is there anything particular on your mind Ambassador?”

“Nothing extraordinary. Should there be?” her smile was implacable and unreadable. Bull had always thought that she could teach the Ben-Hassrath a thing or too. For a while they walked in companionable silence and it was not until they reached the kitchen door that Josephine chose to speak. 

“How is our mutual friend?”

“Improving,”

“I’m reassured to hear that. For his sake especially as I saw Sera on her way to visit. I believe she might have reached the limit of her patience,”

Josie released her arm from Bull’s and replaced it with the basket the kitchen offered her. 

“Please send Dorian my compliments.” And with those last words she was gone.


End file.
